Oxygen
by llnbooks
Summary: When you're a Human Torch, oxygen can be your best friend or your worst enemy.
1. Chapter 1

Author's Note: _I have no idea where this story came from. I've never written one so fast in my life. I woke up Tuesday morning and this story was in my head, by Tuesday evening the first draft was penned. Unfortunately, I was smack in the middle of written a different F4 fiction when this one popped up, so I'm trying to get it finished quickly to get back to the other story. I've never written a story so fast in my life, so there are going to be logic gaps, I'm afraid. I might revise it for quality at a later date, but first we'll see if it gets any response. It's liable to be shorter and more bare bones than my other fictions, but that's not necessarily a bad thing (I tend to be wordy anyway). This is movie-verse because there are several decades of F4 comic books out there that I don't have money to collect and I've only read the graphic novels "Hereafter", "Disassembled" and "Rising Storm", and the novel "War Zone", so the universe in my fictions is a hybrid of bits from those novels, from the animated series on DVD, and from the movie (might want to call it AU if that helps.). For instance, in my fics there will always be about a five or six-year age difference between Sue and Johnny, which is loosely derived from hints in the graphic novels since it obviously doesn't jibe with the movie's casting. Sequel? Depends on if there's a demand (insert evil writer grin). Obviously, then, similarities to comic book issues, or anything else on t.v., in movies, or in stories I haven't read is pure coincidence._

Disclaimer: _I don't own the characters. 20th Century Fox, Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, and probably some other people do. Wish I did. Especially the guys. Typos as always are my fault._

Rating: T to be safe. _This one doesn't have my usual amount of action, only some adult themes and mild language and_ n_o sex (gen or slash. As always, if you see any, you're squinting way too hard)._

**FANTASTIC FOUR**

"**Oxygen**"

_by llnbooks (llnbooks)_

Johnny Storm was no angel. He was used to waking up in strange places (often in strange beds)…just not quite _this_ strange.

Nor could Johnny account for how he'd ended up in his current freaking bizarre circumstances. He wracked his brain for an explanation, but his last memory was of sitting in the chair at his dentist's office (there no way he was letting Reed Richards near him with a dental drill…those things were scary enough in the hands of a trained professional) flirting with a pretty, but alas happily married, hygienist. Okay, his usual dentist, Dr. Morris, had been sick that day and had another D.D.S. filing in for him, that was a little odd. Johnny hadn't minded, since the substitute had been a friendly and attractive brunette woman with a bit of an accent that he couldn't quite place. He'd tried asking where she was from, but she'd shushed him with a shot of Novocain and left him in the chair. Johnny had meant to strike up their conversation when the doctor returned but…he'd started feeling groggy and numb all over his body and, before it had occurred to him that this was an unusual reaction to a dental visit, he'd closed his eyes.

He'd awakened in this weird place.

It was some kind of room, although 'room' might have been a generous description, for it was sterile and lacked any furnishings whatsoever, which gave it more the feeling of being a giant box. The walls were some kind of metal alloy, the floors were the same metal alloy and he couldn't discern one seam, crack, or imperfection in the walls to indicate a door, even though, logically, he had to get into the box somehow so there had to be a door someplace. There was no sign of any air ducts or vents. What kind of room didn't have vents? The walls were smooth and airtight from what he could see. The box was dark, except for a panel on one of the walls where three round lights were flashing in some kind of sequence that wasn't quite as bad as strobes but still threatened to give him a headache. Above that panel, there was a small camera with a flashing red light pointed right at the spot on the floor where Johnny had awakened. Below the camera was a monitor of some sort, but the screen showed only Johnny pacing in his cage. Closer inspection revealed a microphone built into the camera, but no plugs or out-going cables. Apparently, the camera and microphone were battery operated and completely wireless.

Okay, so Johnny already had some vital information just from his first look around the room. He obviously had not gotten into the room on his own. He supposed Ben could be pranking him, but this seemed a little too inventive for that big lug. Most likely, he could thank that damned brunette doctor for knocking him out and dragging him in here or handing him over to someone else who had put him in here. Either way, someone meant to keep him prisoner…and his captors had to be watching him with that camera, what else would it be there for? He couldn't figure out the purpose of the blinking light, unless his abductors were doing a test to see how long they could annoy a Human Torch before he showed them why it wasn't a good idea to annoy a Human Torch. They had to be off their rockers if they thought a little metal box was going to keep Johnny prisoner, door or no door.

Something was pinching his ear. When he noticed that uncomfortable sensation, he became aware of the soft noise of static. Johnny felt at his right ear and found some kind of stitches covering a lump big enough to be some kind of earpiece. They'd sewn it right under his skin. Obviously they didn't want him removing the earpiece until he'd heard whatever they had to say.

All of this was interesting, but not particularly fun. Johnny wasn't in the mood for games. He faced the camera. "Pebbles, if you and Ashton Kutcher are on the other end of that camera, you're both getting a fireball up the wazoo when I get out of here."

There was no response, just the irritating crackle of static in his earpiece.

"All right, whoever you are, wherever you are, you've got my attention. Just hang on a second, I'll be right out to talk to you," he warned.

They didn't provide a door, but Johnny could make one on his own. The Human Torch summoned up a surge of adrenaline and felt the familiar rise of his body's core temperature. He focused the heat only on his hands, which obediently burst into flame. Johnny laid his hands against the wall and dialed up the heat to a level that should sufficiently melt a hole in the metal. He extinguished the fire and surveyed the results of his efforts.

The metal hadn't so much as bubbled. It glowed red beneath the heat of his hands, but the second he pulled back, the glow subsided and the metal rapidly cooled. Johnny frowned. _That can't be. _"Okay, I'll just have to go hotter…"

His earpiece crackled, and a voice warned: "I wouldn't do that if I was you."

Johnny knew that voice. "It can't be…" He faced the monitor, as if expecting to see the owner of the voice displayed there, but the screen was still blank. It didn't matter, he didn't need to see the man to identify him.

"You didn't really think a little fire and water would be enough to get rid of me, did you…Human Torch?" There was genuine amusement in that quiet voice. Johnny must not be doing well at hiding his shock.

"Victor?" Johnny finally asked.

The man formerly known as Victor Von Doom (now dubbed 'Doctor Doom') chuckled. "Hello, Johnny. What's it been? Six months? How have you been?" he said by way of greeting.

Johnny summoned up his bravado to hide his slowly growing feeling of uneasiness. His problems just got a lot bigger than dental hygienists…he apparently had a real psycho to deal with. He crossed his arms, affecting a casual pose, and answered cordially as if he'd run into an old friend on the street and not the archenemy of his team and family. Staring into the camera meant staring at those annoying lights, but Johnny didn't so much as squint to betray his discomfort. "Other than being locked in some freak boy's idea of a joke? Can't complain. So, I'm safe in assuming that the walls and the cameras and this little do-hickey you've sewn into my ear are all fireproof?"

"You always were a quick study," Victor confirmed, sounding pleased. "The metal in those walls was made from an alloy I fabricated based on my own DNA. I think you're well aware that it won't melt, even under your 'supernova' blast. You also know it will withstand Ben's brute strength and Susan's forcefield…but I'm sure they'll have to see that for themselves when they arrive to rescue you."

_Yeah, Johnny was sure they would, too._ "My money's on Susie and the Big Guy."

"You'd lose that bet, Johnny," Victor disagreed. "Only gamble on sure things."

"Why all this trouble, Vic? If you wanted to catch up on old times, you could have dropped by the Baxter Building and said hello."

Doom declined, "Some other time, perhaps."

"No? Fine, tell me where you are and the four of us can pay you a little visit," Johnny offered with an evil grin.

"Again, some other time."

Johnny sighed. It was no fun teasing a psycho, their senses of humor were way warped. "Well, since I can't have a seat since you didn't leave me a chair, how about we cut to the chase and you tell me what this scheme of yours is all about so I can get on with outsmarting you and kicking your ass and all that stuff super heroes do to arch villains?"

"Direct and to the point." Johnny heard a noise over the earpiece that sounded like the drumming of fingers, then Victor's voice returned: "I've always respected that about you, Johnny. You could do with learning some patience, but we can work on that later. I wanted to wait until your…family…arrives, but since we're pressed for time, I supposed there's no harm in getting started now."

'_The rest of the team'? Oh great, Johnny was trap bait. He _hated_ playing trap bait._ "Pressed for time? Fine, I'll start by getting out of here. I'm not interested in playing hero in distress for your little games, Vic."

He was about to raised his hands and summoned up his flames once more, but Victor hastily warned again: "I said don't do that---for your own good." Johnny paused, doused the fire and waited. Finally, Doom explained, "Has it escaped your attention that you've been sealed inside a box with no source of oxygen? Your accommodations were designed to keep you alive for one hour before the depletion of oxygen and the build-up of carbon dioxide becomes enough to kill you. You'll start to feel the effects soon enough---dizziness, disorientation, shortness of breath, fatigue…"

_That_ wasn't good news. _And I thought being abducted by the dentist was going to be the worst thing that happened today_, Johnny mused.

Doom continued: "Unfortunately, you were unconscious for a bit longer than I anticipated after you were sealed in there. A slight drug overdose when you were taken from Dr. Morris' office. I promise that our mutual friend, Dr. Reinhardt, will be appropriately disciplined for that error. Then, of course, you had to fire up---or what is it you say? 'Flame on'?---twice, even after I warned you not to. You're down to forty minutes of oxygen according to the sensors. I'd estimate you're losing five minutes of air each time you attempt to use your powers, and you obviously know your powers will do you no good. But, don't take my word for it, by all means---try to melt the walls again if you insist."

Johnny decided to play it safe. He could wait a few minutes for the rest of the team to help spring him from this box. Meanwhile, he could keep Victor preoccupied.

"So, you _are_ watching me?"

"The entire world is watching you right now, Johnny…courtesy of my old satellite network. I managed to reprogram them after my old corporation was sold. They do come in handy. You're live to the world…after all it's only fitting for a glory hound like you to have his last minutes broadcast live worldwide, don't you think?"

_Okay, there were at least two things about what Victor just said that Johnny didn't like the sound of, but he was damned if Victor was going to rattle him in front of live audience----_

Something beeped. The sound was so unexpected that Johnny almost jumped at the sudden noise, until he recognized the tone. It was his communicator. He'd had it with him at the dentist's office---after all, a super hero should never leave home without one. Besides that, Reed was pretty much insistent that the team carry their communicators every where they went due the tendency of villains to pop up or lay traps pretty much at any given moment. Victor _really_ wasn't worried about the others springing Johnny if he had let the Human Torch keep his line of communication with the team.

His sister's concerned voice crackled over the speaker. "Johnny! Can you hear me?"

Hurriedly, Johnny switched on the communicator and answered: "Sue?"

She must have heard him. On the device's tiny screen, Sue's eyes were wide and frightened, and if she was scared, the situation had to be as bad as Victor made it sound. That wasn't reassuring. He saw Reed and Ben in the background. They were still in the Baxter Building. _They don't' know where I am_, Johnny knew. They'd be beating down the door, literally in Ben's case, if they did.

"Any idea where you are, Johnny?" Their leader asked, confirming Johnny's suspicion.

"Not a clue."

Mr. Fantastic nodded, having expected that much. "Keep the communicator on. We'll trace your signal back to you."

"We'll be there as fast as we can," Sue promised.

"Am I really on t.v.?"

Reed answered, "I'm afraid so. Every channel."

"Well, that's cool," Johnny grinned, trying to sound casual to put his worried sister and team mates at ease.

Ben made a noise of disgust. "Cool for you, but I was tryin' to watch _Oprah_ 'til your ugly mug interrupted." His glibness was not reflected in his rocky features. On the contrary, Ben looked ready to flatten something---preferably that box where Doom had locked Johnny.

"Are you all right, Johnny?" Sue asked.

"Not so much, no. Victor's off on one of his rants and he's giving me a massive headache."

Reed froze in place at that. "Victor? Victor Von Doom?"

"You know any other crackpot screwy enough to think of something this twisted?" Johnny answered.

Ben harrumphed. "Least we know whose getting his face rearranged after we spring the kid."

Johnny didn't understand why the others looked so surprised at that bit of news. They'd said he was on t.v., how come they hadn't heard Victor's rambling? "You guys didn't hear him?"

"No," Sue said.

Doom's voice came over Johnny's earpiece…and over the communicators. Johnny winced and had to resist the urge to shut off the communicator when the feedback caused a squeal of feedback over the earpiece. The rest of the team jumped in surprise when Victor interrupted: "Can you hear me now?"

Ben shook his head, "Yep, that's metal britches."

"Our conversations are private, Johnny. That's why I went to the trouble of designing your earpiece instead of talking over the communicators. The rest of you will only hear what you need to hear," Victor explained.

Reed frowned. "An earpiece?"

Holding the communicator so they could see the side of his face, Johnny grimaced and pointed to his right ear. Reed couldn't see a device there, but there was a tiny scar and several small stitches beside Johnny's ear. Apparently, Victor didn't want him removing the device. "Fireproof?" he asked, since Johnny hadn't removed the earpiece himself yet.

"Of course. Might come out if I flamed on all the way, but---that's probably gonna burn up all my air in about a minute, so, I'm guessing it's not a good idea."

Sue's mouth curled downward into a frown at the very idea of someone cutting into his brother's skin like that, much less implanting a device meant to add to his current misery. Having been on the receiving end of such looks from his fiancé in the past, Reed wouldn't envy Victor when Susan got her hands on him.

Ben faced the camera. "Whatever he's tellin' ya, kid, don't listen."

Sue was looking more agitated the more she heard. "What do you want this time, Victor?"

"Hello, Susan. The game is very simple. Your baby brother is in a box constructed of an alloy based on my new DNA---but I'm sure Reed has already figured that out," Victor answered.

Reed had already deduced where Victor was headed: "Which means Johnny can't melt it, Susan can't move it with her force field, and Ben can't break it," he said.

"Very good, Reed," Victor complimented. "You also won't find any spaces for Mr. Fantastic to squeeze through. The camera transmitting is wireless, so no holes for the cables, and it's welded from two solid pieces, so no cracks or seams. Unfortunately, that also means no vents."

Reed offered the camera, and the villain he was certain could see him, a dirty look. "Which means no air."

Ben and Sue's expression matched Richards' own grim features as the situation sank in.

Satisfied he had their attention now, Victor continued: "In fifteen minutes or so, the depletion of oxygen and the build up of carbon dioxide in that box is going to make life very uncomfortable for our young friend in there. In about thirty minutes…well, you can always rename yourselves the _Tragic Trio_. It's very catchy."

Reed was the first to break the silence that briefly fell over the four. Keeping his face in a neutral expression, he asked: "You didn't answer our question, Victor. _What_ do you _want_?"

Victor's tone was all business now. "Simple, Reed. The last time we met, the four of you defeated me---" His bitter snort was audible over the speaker and Johnny's earpiece. "'Defeated'…you humiliated me. Turned me into a living lawn jockey. Do you have any idea how long it took to regenerate myself enough to move? To blink? I want a rematch, what do you think I want? For today, however, I want you to try to save your friend. I want the four of you to see that all your power, all your strength, all your intelligence, all your cockiness, everything that makes you 'fantastic'---" Johnny could hear the distaste in Doom's voice when he said the word. "---can't save his life. Not this time. And one you accept that, I want to hear you say two words to me. I want you to say them into the cameras for the whole world to hear."

"What words?" Sue was the one to ask.

"Simple. I want you to say: 'You win'."

Reed waited, expecting something more. "That's it?"

"That's quite a bit, Reed. If I hear a concession of defeat---from all four of you---I'll return your Human Torch to you unharmed. I can do it with the press of a button," Victor promised.

In the cage, Johnny offered a glare into the camera for Victor's benefit. "Yeah, don't hold your breath." He cringed. "Okay, bad choice of words…"

Doom ignored him. "Until I have your concessions, the three of you won't be hearing any more from me." There was a click like a phone line being disconnected over the speaker in conference room. Victor's voice, however, remained in Johnny's ear. "You and I, however, will talk again very soon."

Johnny rolled his eyes. _Terrific. How'd I get picked to be his chat buddy_?

Reed looked to Susan. Her fear reflected in her eyes, but her face showed only determination. "What do you think?" he asked quietly, temporarily muting the communicators so Doom and the rest of the world wouldn't overhear.

On the communicator, Johnny saw The Thing balling his massive hands into fists. "I think Vic can stick his 'concessions' where the sun don't shine." Ben didn't even try to lower his voice. He wanted to be sure the creep heard his answer.

"Yeah, well, I'll second that," Johnny agreed.

Susan considered the situation. "I think Victor will keep his word," she answered Reed's question. "I just don't understand what he thinks he's going to gain from this. It's a lot of effort just to humiliate us if that's all he wants."

_That was true enough,_ Reed silently agreed. Victor hadn't shown up six months after their first battle just to publicly embarrass him. There had to be more to it. Reed would rather know what Doom was hiding up his sleeve before his team went charging blindly in---

The communicator beeped and Johnny's image temporarily disappeared as the screen displayed a map. It had traced his signal. Reed frowned. "It's coming from Victor's old corporate offices."

"Then let's go get him," Ben was already lumbering towards the door.

"Ben, wait a minute----"

The Thing's annoyance was clear. "What wait, Reed? The Matchstick's running out of air. We ain't gotta choice."

Reed didn't like the situation one bit, but Ben was right. They didn't have the luxury of time to sit and second-guess Doom's plans. He would, however, at least like to know if Victor was going to be waiting for them with God-knew-what kinds of traps when the Fantastic Four arrived. _Maybe there was a way to find out._ Reed turned his communicator on again. "Johnny, can you keep Victor talking?"

"Probably. Megalomaniacs are pretty cooperative that way. Question is why would I want to do that?"

Reed didn't want to say, not with Doom somehow tapped into their communications. "Just trust me for now."

Johnny didn't sound happy about it, but he said only: "Will do."

The other two members of the team looked at their leader for an explanation. Reed muted the communicators' signals just long enough to tell Ben and Sue: "Victor's sending a signal to that earpiece somehow. I might be able to use our communicators to trace it. It would be good to know if he's waiting outside that cell."

"True," Ben agreed.

"We're on our way, Johnny," Sue promised.

Inside the box, Johnny took a deep breath and braced himself. _This wasn't going to be pleasant. _He faced the camera in his cell and forced a cheerful smirk. "Okay, Vic, the jury's still out on that 'last minutes' thing, but let's say I buy that there's no way out of this box. The million dollar question is: What's up? I'm the bait, what's the ransom, really? 'Cause I'm not buying the whole 'concession' thing."

Victor actually laughed at that. "Let's start by saying, I'm repaying a debt."

Johnny was confused. "A debt? To who? Some clown we busted put a contract on us or what?"

"A debt to _you_, Johnny."

The Torch frowned. _Huh?_ "I'd probably have to be in your brain to understand how that makes any sense, and it's dark and scary in there, so why don't you walk me through it instead, Vic." He sat down against the wall, making himself comfortable. He knew from experience that bad guy rants could go on and on and on once the floodgates were opened.

"Do you remember our last encounter?" Doom asked.

Like Johnny would forget. He'd used his supernova powers to superheat Victor, then Reed used water from a fire hydrant to supercool the bad guy until Victor's metal seized up, making him immobile as a living statue. "I don't remember doing you any favors, Tin Man," Johnny answered.

"But that's just it, Johnny, you did me a very great favor. I was angry at the time, of course, but I've had quite a long time to think about it---as you can imagine---and I've come to realize that I owe you a debt for what you did that night. You gave me a baptism of fire, Johnny. That fire burned away the impurities of my being, the residue of fragile skin and blood. You can't be subject to the weakness of the flesh when you have no flesh. That fire purified me, re-forged me as a stronger being than I ever was before. It was the completion of my transformation from the weak, emotional man that was Victor Von Doom into what I've become now."

"A hood ornament?" Johnny rubbed his eyes, waiting out Doom's rant. _Oh boy, this was going to be a long day._

Victor didn't sound amused at that barb. "An immortal. A god…a god indebted to a mere mortal. And I hate being indebted."

The Torch whistled. _Oh good, he thinks he's God again._ "At what point did you go Old Testament, Vic? And when did you decide you were God?" Johnny waved off his own question. "You know what, never mind, I don't care. I'm glad you're happy. How about popping open this box and we'll call it even on the favors and debt thing?"

"That's not what I had in mind," Victor refused.

"Yeah, I didn't think so. So, what then?"

"I'm going to return the favor, Johnny. I'm going to share the gift you gave me."

Johnny mumbled under his breath, "Psy-cho…"

"I'm going to show you your own impurities, Johnny---"

Now, Johnny laughed out loud, "Now, _that's_ going to take more than forty minutes…"

"---the weaknesses that are preventing you from becoming what you were destined to be…from truly understanding how these powers elevated us above the toils and concerns of mortal men and made us immortals."

"Okay, so you're going to prove I'm immortal by killing me with a big steel box?" Johnny clarified.

Victor was no longer paying attention to his barbs. "My weaknesses could be burned out of me. Obviously, that won't work with the Human Torch. So, since your impurities can't be burned out, they'll have to be suffocated. Think of this room as your chrysalis, Johnny. It's here that your transformation will truly begin."

Johnny waited, but apparently Victor was finished with his rant. Johnny climbed back to his feet and nodded, "Wow…that's warped. I think I'll take my chances with the fla---"

The monitor in his prison, dark until that point, interrupted by suddenly flickering to life. "Ah, look, your family's finally here," Victor said. "Go ahead, say hello. We'll talk more soon."

"Yeah, can't wait." Between Victor's ranting, the blinking light, and the pops and static over Vic's crappy earpiece (he guessed the static was due to the earpiece trying to transmit and receive a signal through a steel wall), Johnny was working on getting a migraine.

He turned his attention to the images on the monitors. The screen displayed what looked like the remains of the conference room at Victor's former corporate offices (no one had wanted to rent out his old suites, finding the notion of occupying the villain's old space creepy beyond all reason). The camera feeding images of the office to Johnny's monitor showed part of the wrecked conference table and a large steel box. _My cage, no doubt._ The rest of the Fantastic Four had just entered the room. Susan Storm bee-lined for the steel box while Reed Richards and Ben Grimm took a long look around the room.

"Johnny, we're here," she said.

"I see you guys. Turn around."

Sue glanced back and spotted another camera and monitor mounted on the wall. The images of the Human Torch being broadcast to the rest of the word were also displayed on the small monitor. Johnny offered his sister a wave, "Nice of you guys to drop by."

Reed was prowling around the steel box, searching for the smallest hole, crack, or opening that would allow him to get into the prison. From the way he was frowning, Johnny figured he wasn't having much luck finding one.

"How 'bout it Reed? You have any brilliant ideas? Or maybe a giant can opener?"

Their leader gave the faintest nod of his head into the camera. Victor hadn't been lying; there wasn't a single crack in the box that Mr. Fantastic could have squeezed through. There were faint lines that Reed figured were seams from the door, but they'd been welded airtight. "I'm working on it. We're still working on tracking Victor's signal to his location, so keep your communicator open. It's picking up Victor's transmissions, but the signal is scrambled. We can't hear what he's saying. Your earpiece must have the translator chip."

"_I _got an idea," Ben piped in, "How about we don't take Victor's word for how impenetrable this box is? Stand away from the walls, Matchstick."

Johnny moved to the center of his cramped cell while the monitor showed Ben stomping over to the container. The Thing drew back his massive arms and slammed both fists into the wall, putting all his considerable strength into the blows. Johnny waited, but the box didn't so much as shake.

He raised an eyebrow, "Was that your A-game, big guy?"

Undaunted, Ben kept up his efforts, using every heavy piece of furniture and broken pipes from the demolished walls to try to batter the prison. The box wasn't even scratched. On the monitor, Johnny was shaking his head, already knowing it was a lost cause. When it became obvious that his efforts weren't doing any good, he called to the Invisible Woman: "Susie, gimme a hand!"

When The Thing launched another assault on the unyielding walls, Susie's force field shimmered to life inside the box, covering her brother even as it expanded and tried to bend the walls outward. This time the metal walls did react: There was a deafening groan of metal grinding against metal---and then the ceiling dropped down lower so unexpectedly that Johnny instinctively dove to his knees. It wasn't breaking open, it was being crushed—fully intact---like a soda can. Sue's shield had kept the heavy ceiling from striking him on the head as it collapsed.

On the earpiece, Victor was chuckling again. "Surprise. The box was designed to react to Sue's psychic energy by decreasing in mass," Victor was explaining. "You really should tell her to stop, Johnny."

_Like I didn't know that already. _As if on cue, the walls gave another groan of warning. Johnny yelled into the microphone, waving into the camera to get her attention or Reed's or Ben's. "Susie! You gotta stop! Vic's got the walls booby trapped!"

Sue had to face away from the camera and monitor to focus on her assault on the cage. Reed, however, was watching the monitor and saw the danger even as Johnny was shouting his warning. Reed grabbed Sue by the shoulder, trying to break her concentration. "Susan, _stop_! Ben, don't!"

The duo had seen the box begin to cave in, how could they not have noticed? Ben backed away at once. Sue's instinct, however, was to keep her shield in place, afraid to let go now for fear the box would continue collapsing down onto her brother. She knew she couldn't hold it forever, but she'd try for Johnny's sake. "It's reacting to your force field somehow," Reed had guessed without being privy to Victor's words to Johnny. "_Let go_!"

Reluctantly, Sue complied. The shimmer of her shield slowly winked out. Johnny stared warily at the ceiling until he was sure that the box wasn't going to close in any farther. Then, since he couldn't stand with the low overhead clearance any more, he made himself comfortable as he could by sitting on the floor. He leaned his back against the wall and closed his eyes for a minute against the irritating blinking lights, which, thanks to his seated position, were now at his eye-level. "Appreciate the thought, anyway," he said.

Outside, the trio waited until they were sure the box had stabilized. Reed breathed a sigh of relief. Susan was still a bit shaken by the close call, but clenched her fist to hide the tremble of her hands.

"That cost you about five minutes of air," Victor informed Johnny.

He conveyed the news to the others. "We lost five minutes, guys."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: _I don't own the characters. 20th Century Fox, Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, and probably some other people do. Wish I did. Especially the guys. Typos as always are my fault._

_Rating:  T to be safe. This one doesn't have my usual amount of action, only some adult themes and mild language. See part one for author's notes._

**2**

Villains had devised no situation yet for which Mr. Fantastic could not devise a gadget, or so his team and family had learned. When the images of Johnny imprisoned in Victor's cage were first broadcast—less than six minutes earlier---Reed had not known what kind of trap, precisely, that they were dealing with, but he'd prepared as best he could. Victor had to be confident in his cube, for he'd placed it in an obvious location and had placed not a single trap, barrier, or obstacle between the Fantastic Four and their imprisoned comrade. Clearly, Doom wasn't worried about Johnny escaping or the team liberating him from the cell.

Having sized up the situation in a hurry, and ever-mindful of the deadline hanging over their heads by the dwindling oxygen and toxic carbon dioxide in the cell, Reed swiftly set to work with the instruments that he'd brought along. He stayed out of the range of the small camera, hoping to hide his activities from Doom.

The immediate threat to Johnny wasn't the only factor weighing on Reed's mind. Sue had been right when she said that Doom had gone to a lot of trouble if all he wanted was a simple concession of defeat from the team. Something more was going on here. For one thing, why had Victor gone to all the trouble of fashioning a small speaker and surgically implanting it in Johnny's ear? Why did he need a closed circuit to speak to his captive? Anything Johnny heard, he would tell the team, so Victor couldn't imagine that they'd be having a private conversation.

While Reed worked, Ben paced around the outside of the cube, clenching and unclenching his fists, as if he could crack open the box with the force of his glare. Susan kept one eye on the monitor, keeping up a stream of chatter with her brother, and the other on Reed's activities. When she glanced in his direction, Reed waved her over.

"Tell me you have a plan." She wasn't asking.

"Victor said he could open that box with the press of a button, so there has to be a lock or a trigger hidden somewhere in the walls of that cage," he whispered. "He'll transmit a signal to that lock to open the box. I want you to have a good look around, see if you can find something that looks like a receiver. It'll be very small. If we find it, I might be able to find its frequency and trigger the lock from here."

"Or maybe you'll set off another trap," Sue warned.

Ben had joined their conference just in time to overhear. "I ain't got any better ideas, Susie, how 'bout you?"

She was sure Victor would have anticipated an attempt like that, but she did not have any better ideas at the moment either. "All right. Just please be careful." She shimmered into invisibility.

Feeling useless at the moment, while Sue went about her task and Reed set to work on another of his gizmos, Ben complained, "I hate this sitting around waiting."

"You and me both," Johnny agreed.

Ben turned back to the monitor. On the screen, he saw Johnny seated on the floor, his back to the wall, a twitch of his foot the only hint of the Human Torch's frustration. Johnny's eyes were closed at the moment, and that worried Ben. Was the kid already getting tired from the thinning air? "Ya all right, kid? Eyes open, hear?"

Johnny blinked and opened his eyes, then winced. He couldn't tell if his headache owed to just the lights or if the air was starting to get thin. The flashing lights were even brighter and more annoying after having his eyes shut for a minute or two. He felt like he was locked inside a 1970s disco lounge…without the consolation of having pretty ladies for company. On top of that, the crackle and pop of static in his ear was beginning to make his skin crawl. If he didn't get out of this box and get that thing out of his ear soon, he was going to think seriously about taking his chances with burning off his remaining air to remove it himself. _This has to be worse than Chinese water torture._

"How are you feeling?" Reed added from somewhere off-camera.

"Like I'm stuck in a Maroon Five song." _Like crap_, Johnny wanted to say, but adding to their stress wasn't going to help. It was hard to watch the monitor, since it was right above the lamps and therefore required Johnny to look almost directly into their glare, but talking over the communicators—with that killer feedback---was worse, and he knew Ben and Reed weren't going to be satisfied unless he answered. "I'm okay."

Ben knew that was a lie. The kid was scared, even if he would never show it. "We'll getcha out. Sit tight."

Johnny grinned a bit. "What, don't tell me you're actually worried about me, Big Guy?"

The Thing snorted. "Nah, I just wanna get your ugly mug off'a everyone's t.v.'s before they miss _Days of Our Lives_ and start rioting in the streets."

"Aw man, I'm missing the soaps? Someone run back to the Baxter Building and turn on the recorder for me." It was a feeble joke, but it was the best he could do. Besides, he wasn't going to lose his cool or his sense of humor in front of a worldwide audience. He blinked again, trying to keep his eyes open against the desire to close them and rest for a minute. _Thin air and sleep is bad…or was it cold air and sleep is bad? Never could keep those straight._

Johnny heard a derisive grunt over the earpiece, and his own temper flared up. His adrenaline surged with the rush of anger, instinctively gearing up for a flame on and a fight, heating up the already-stuffy cage. He forced himself to calm down. Fully awake now, he challenged his unseen captor: "You got something to say, Tin Man?"

"Nice show of bravado, Johnny. Always keep a brave face to the world. What I can't understand is why you worry about impressing Ben Grimm, of all people," Victor chided. "I've never understood your need for his approval. That's the sort of emotional weakness I was talking about, the kind that makes you weak. The kind that holds you back."

"I don't need anyone's approval," Johnny shot back.

The rest of the team turned their full attention to the monitor at Johnny's out-of-the-blue remark. "What're you talkin' about?" Ben asked him.

Susan suddenly appeared beside the Thing. "He wasn't talking to us. Victor's saying something to him again," she answered for her brother. "Johnny, ignore him."

Johnny nodded to her, "Gladly."

Victor, however, wasn't finished. "Ben Grimm was your C.O. I understand the desire to impress your superiors---it opens the door to opportunity, after all. But, your loyalty to him should have ended the day you left NASA, Johnny."

"Ignoring you," the Human Torch informed Doom.

"You were kicked out for what---some harmless fun with a couple of young ladies?" Victor pressed. "It's no secret, Johnny, I read your file long before you ever came to work for me. What were the charges? Improper use of NASA facilities? Bringing unauthorized civilians into secured areas? Did I leave anything out? Tell me, I'm curious."

"Destruction of NASA property, etc, etc…" Johnny answered. Then, he shook his head. "And why am I answering you?" he asked himself.

Susan raised an eyebrow. "What's he saying?"

Ben glowered. "He's talking about NASA…or Victor is." Ben could guess his name was coming up in the conversation, too, and he wasn't at all pleased about it. What the hell was the point of Doom's dredging up Johnny's bad memories?

"Harmless fun," Victor repeated his conclusion. "The point, Johnny, is that Grimm was your C.O., he had a say in the decision to throw you out, you have to know that. At the least, he had the power to speak in your defense. Come on, Johnny, tell me the truth, you must be a little angry with him."

Ferocity bit into Johnny's tone, matching the icy stare he directed into the camera. "Ben went to bat for me, I know he did. He helped me get in 'cause I was Sue's brother and I disappointed him. I didn't blame him for being pissed off."

Ben felt an unexpected pang of regret, like a physical blow to the gut. "You got something' to say 'bout me, Vic? Don't say it behind my back---" Sheesh, why was Vic tearing into that old wound? Yeah, it was true, Johnny had grated on Ben's nerves back in their days at NASA. The kid had been brash and cocky---good qualities for a pilot, but not so good for a team where mutual cooperation had to outweigh personal glory. Ben hadn't seen Johnny as a team player back then, he'd seen him as a hot shot and a glory hound. Ben hadn't entirely trusted him with the safety of a crew. He'd been right at the time, but that wasn't (entirely) true of Johnny Storm now. Johnny was still a hotshot and a glory hound, yes, but his dedication to the team, to the Fantastic Four, was beyond question. The kid was learning to listen and take orders. He trusted Johnny with his life now. Of course, Ben shouldn't be expected to say mushy crap like that out loud.

It was ancient history, all that, and if Victor was using it to hurt the kid, he was going to answer to Ben.

"Are you sure, Johnny? Did Ben really 'go to bat for you'? Why would he? He did the right thing when they were deciding what to do with you, Johnny---he didn't let emotional impurities like friendship and loyalty get in the way of making his decision. He did what was best for NASA. I respect him for that. I understand Ben, but you---why are you still defending what he did back then? You were angry when you came knocking on my door. I know you were. I saw you on the space station. I saw you at the quarantine facility. I watched you at the Baxter Building. Why did you stand there on that space station and risk your life staying with Ben when that cosmic storm hit? Why were you the one sitting with him in the quarantine facility when we were brought back to Earth? Why did you hang on to your loyalty to him after all that?" Victor's tone grew in intensity with each question. "The first lesson I have to teach you is this, Johnny: If a man stabs you in the back once, you don't hand him another knife and say, 'Try again.' You cut him out of your life, out of mind, out of heart. Trust is a privilege. When it's betrayed, it's revoked."

Victor had already baited Johnny about all this a long time ago, when Johnny had marched into Von Doom's office in search of employment. What was the point of rehashing it now? Johnny wondered.

Ben Grimm had been larger-than-life to Johnny when they'd met. Ben was a pilot, an astronaut, a hero, and he came from the poor side of town just like Johnny Storm had. So, yeah, Victor was right. Johnny had worried about impressing his C.O. back then. He'd wanted to be all those things, too. And then Johnny had done something remarkably stupid and disappointed his would-be mentor. At the time, it had hurt that Ben hadn't put in a word on Johnny's behalf with the big wigs (he didn't know Ben had, in fact, done so until later when Reed told him), and he'd been angry, thinking that his dreams were over (until Sue had convinced him to try signing on with Von Doom's corporation). But, Johnny didn't hate Ben for what happened. And, yes, sometimes he still tried to impress his old C.O. (usually only driving the Thing nuts with his antics instead).

Glancing away from the camera, Johnny took a deep breath and counted to ten, trying to bring himself under control. Victor was baiting him, but that didn't mean he had to take the bait.

Doom's captive's mouth was set in a firm line. Johnny didn't answer, but a twitch of his jaw confirmed the fact that Victor's words had hit their mark.

Victor must have been smiling beneath his garish mask, for Johnny could hear self-satisfaction in Doom's voice when he added: "Are you that desperate for a father figure, Johnny? That would be understandable, being raised by your big sister the way you were."

Johnny's ice stare became venomous. Instinctively, he tried to stand and started to raise his fists. Smoke began to pour from his fingertips. "Leave her out of this," he warned.

"Johnny, don't listen to him!" Sue's authoritative tone came over the monitor.

Johnny paused only long enough to meet Reed's eyes over the monitor. The question was in the younger man's eyes: _Do I still need to keep Victor talking?_ Regretting the necessity, Reed nodded almost imperceptibly in answer. The Human Torch scowled and returned his attention to Victor.

Doom would not be silenced yet. "I'm not criticizing her, Johnny. I know how hard it was for you two, losing your parents in such an awful way, Susan having to raise you on her own when she was what—sixteen? Seventeen? She was a child herself. Never having a father around when you needed one…it leaves a void. Believe me, I understand. We have that in common, Johnny."

"Me have something in common with you, Doom? There's a thought that'll make a guy lose his lunch."

Whatever Victor was saying, the Human Torch's face was a mask of deadly fury. He appeared ready to climb right through the camera to get at Doom. He was oblivious to his teammates' efforts to distract him from the voice in his ear. Reed worked that much faster, while Sue and Ben watched the one-sided exchange on the monitor with increasing fear. If Victor provoked him to flame on, Johnny was as good as dead.

"I wish I knew what Victor was saying," Sue said.

"I wish I could cram that camera and microphone down Vic's throat," Ben added.

"I lost my father, too, Johnny. Very few people know that. My father was a doctor, just like yours. A doctor in Latveria…well, I suppose he was what your culture would call a gypsy or a specialist in folk remedies and homeopathic medicines. It was a long time ago. We traveled from village to village so my father could help people," Victor recalled. "And, like your father, eventually someone under his care passed away and he found himself accused of a murder that he didn't commit…in his case, it was a little girl in his charge, not his wife. There was nothing that could have been done for the girl's fever, but the people in her village didn't see that way. They convinced the officials in their province that my father had deliberately poisoned the child. When the soldiers came to arrest my father, we ran. I was with him when they caught up with us. I think a general named Kubeka pulled the trigger. It's the worst thing in the world to watch your own parent die…"

Victor's end of the earpiece lapsed into silence. Johnny was momentarily at a loss for a retort. The anger was ebbing out of him, and the instinct to fight with it. He might even have felt an instant of pity for his tormentor, but Victor's words had torn right into Johnny and opened a gaping wound. As if he knew that, Doom poured the salt into the wound: "…but I imagine you felt almost the same way the day your father was arrested: Abandoned. Afraid...betrayed. You were what…eleven? Twelve?"

Johnny didn't want to think about that day. He hadn't let himself think about it for a very long time. In spite of himself, his vision blurred and the unfamiliar sensation of tears burned the corners of his eyes. He didn't bother to ask how Victor knew so much about his family---Victor had made it his business to know everything about his employees when Susan and Johnny worked for him. Naturally, there'd be no secrets that the billionaire couldn't have uncovered.

Something was terribly wrong. Susan could tell. Johnny no longer looked to be in danger of flaming on, but he had lapsed into silence…had practically frozen in place…and there was something in his eyes she hadn't seen in a very long time. Whatever Victor was saying was getting to Johnny…and there wasn't much that darkened his spirits, penetrated that devil-may-care attitude he wore like a shield.

Gently, Susan used the lull to try to distract her brother from Doom's tirades. "Johnny? What?"

"You shouldn't be angry at your father for what happened, Johnny. You need to put the past behind you, if you'll pardon the cliché. Otherwise, the past is an Achilles Heel that your enemies can use against you---for instance, when they have you imprisoned much like you are now. I'm sorry I had to use that to make my point. I didn't know your father, but I know he did exactly as I've been trying to tell you: He didn't let emotional attachments interfere with doing what he had to do to survive. I'm sure he would have liked to have come back for you and Susan when he escaped from prison, but what kind of life would that have been for any of you? You would have slowed him down. The worry over both of you would have always come first. He'd never be able to focus on clearing him name, on staying ahead of the police, and sooner or later he would have had to give you up or give up his life. He made a practical, sensible decision in making a clean break from your lives---sensible for all three of you. Love is a fine thing…but if you don't master it, love will get you killed. It's that kind of sensibility that your should emulate, Johnny, if you're ever to live up to the potential of your gifts."

Too much. Johnny could deal with Doom and his tirades…he could give a flying fig for what creeps like Victor had to say to or about him…but not with the bad memories and the surge of long-dormant pain that accompanied those memories. His temper flared to rare heights.

On the monitor, Susan was trying to intervene, though she was powerless to do more than say: "Don't listen to him. Listen to us, Johnny…you're losing oxygen in there. It's going to make you feel confused. It's going to make it hard to think clearly. Victor's using that to play mind games with you…"

For just that moment, Johnny could care less about burning off his air. The need to shut that psycho up was stronger. He couldn't kill Doom…but he could take out that camera and microphone. He raised his hands and smoke began to pour from his body.

Sue saw this and yelled into the microphone: "_Johnny, no!_"

Reed's attention snapped back to the monitor at once. "Johnny, _don't move_!"

It was their Leader's voice, his order brooking no disobedience, and the Human Torch stopped only a heartbeat before his flames would have come to life. He couldn't prevent a snarl at the unseen Victor: "You don't know shit about me or my dad, Doom!"

Ben would have raised an eyebrow if he'd had one. "Dad?" The question was directed at the Invisible Woman.

The blood drained from Susan's face. Suddenly, she knew exactly what was provoking Johnny to that level of rage. "Oh God." This had gone too far. She didn't care about finding Victor any more…not if this was the price her brother had to pay. The entire world didn't need to see this. Maybe they couldn't get that earpiece out without risking Johnny's life, but they could sure as hell spoil some of Victor's fun. "Johnny, can you take out that camera and microphone without flaming on?" They would still be able see and hear Johnny over their own communicators.

"My pleasure," Johnny growled, advancing on the cameras.

"Ben." Sue turned to the Thing and nodded to the camera in the office with them.

"No problem," Ben answered.

Reed warned them, "No, wait---the transmitter might be ins----"

Doom's voice interrupted once again: "I can't let you do that."

The communicator on Johnny's wrist crackled in warning, and then burst into flames and disintegrated from within. Only the fact that his skin was fireproof preventing him from being burned and the material of his suit kept the fragments of the device from leaving more than a couple small cuts behind. Outside the box, the rest of the team's communicators blinked the message: _Signal lost._

"Destroy the cameras if you wish," Victor sounded quite pleased with himself, "but you lose your only communication with your friend. It's your decision."

Ben looked at Susie, making it her call. She, in turn, waited for her brother's reaction. On the monitor, Johnny hesitated for a long while before he abandoned his plans and turned away from the camera. Being in the box was bad. Being in the box without being able to see or hear anyone besides Doom would be worse.

Susan faced the camera, but this time she wasn't speaking Johnny. "Victor?"

Doom answered at once. "Susan?"

She paused just for a second before saying what she had to say. It made her sick in the pit of her stomach, but if swallowing her pride for two words was the price she had to pay to help her brother, Sue would do it. "You win."

She could practically hear Victor smiling: "One down. Three to go."


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: _I don't own the characters. 20th Century Fox, Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, and probably some other people do. Wish I did. Especially the guys. Typos as always are my fault._

_Rating:  T to be safe. This one doesn't have my usual amount of action, only some adult themes and mild language. See part one for author's notes._

**3**

That tantrum had cost him. Johnny could feel that the air had thinned just from the intense heat. The room was getting uncomfortably stuffy, his ears were ringing from Victor's earpiece, and his skull felt like it was going to split open. His sister was right---it was getting hard to think clearly. _Why was Victor getting under his skin so bad_?

Resigned, Johnny had returned to his spot against the wall and sat, half-collapsing. He leaned his head against the wall, closed his eyes and worked very hard to bring his anger back under control. He couldn't afford lose his cool like that again if he wanted to survive this ordeal.

He didn't want to open his eyes and stare at those flashing lights at the moment, but he wanted to know what was going on outside. The rest of the team had been quiet for a while, probably trying to figure out their next move. Johnny didn't know how much time had passed. More to the point, he didn't know how much time he had left. He didn't want to know, truth be told. Whether he had twenty minutes or ten, sitting in the box and waiting, having to concentrate on breathing slow to conserve air, sucked in every possible way…

…Especially when freak boy wouldn't quite yammering in Johnny's ear.

"Big Sister did the right thing. Of course, she proved my point again—she let her emotions dictate her decisions. She did as I commanded because of her emotional attachment to you. In doing so, she revealed her weakness: Need. She needs her brother, therefore she puts his welfare ahead of her own welfare. Need is an impurity, a vulnerability. Victor Von Doom had that weakness, too. You still have it…in fact, Sue is a weakness we have in common. I told you we have much in common, Johnny."

"Can't believe you're still talking, Tin Man," Johnny said tiredly, not bothering to open his eyes.

"Victor Von Doom pursued her affections far longer than he should have, let it cloud his judgment because he thought she was something he needed in his life to be stronger. Fortunately, when Susan helped you burn away Victor from Doom, that need was burned out as well. I think watching her slip away from me was more painful than the entire process of mutation and regeneration, but I've come out stronger for it."

Johnny was having a hard enough time concentrating and staying awake without Victor boring him with his rambling. "Is there a point to all this looming on the horizon? What do you want, Victor?"

"I told you---concession."

Johnny shook his head, which only made him dizzy. "Not gonna happen."

Victor chuckled. "Still clinging to pride? Pride goeth before a fall, Johnny. I respect your tenacity, but put your emotions aside and make a practical decision. Two words. Say two words and you survive."

Johnny raised his hand and made a rude gesture at the camera. "How about two words in sign language?"

He heard Ben laugh over the monitor. "Hope ya got money for the FCC fines, Matchstick. I'm not sure transmissions over super-villains' satellite networks are exempt."

Susan's voice cut in. She'd heard Johnny mumbling over the microphone and knew what was going on. Doom was after him again. "Johnny? Try not to talk, okay?" she asked.

Ben grunted, "Not talk? Sheesh, Susie, why don't ya ask him to do somethin' less painful---like lop off an arm or a leg with a rusty tin can lid or take a vow of celibacy or somethin'?" Johnny smiled weakly at that, but didn't open his eyes or look at the screen. Worried, Ben asked, "Ya still in there, junior?"

With intense concentration, he managed to open his heavy eyelids. "Yeah, Pebbles, I'm still here," Johnny answered, blinking to clear the spots dancing in front of his eyes. "How's it going out there?"

"Reed's almost got it," Sue said.

Johnny squinted against the harsh lights to see the screen. He didn't see Reed, which meant he was staying off camera because, whatever he was up to, he didn't want to tip his plan to Doom. Ben and Sue didn't look as if they were as confident as their words would have Johnny believe. Reed might be up to something, but he 'didn't almost have it', that was for sure. "Susie…can see you guys…remember?" Was he slurring his words? Johnny couldn't tell.

Reed stepped in front of the camera, addressing the younger man directly. "I'm not giving up, Johnny." Then he ducked out of sight once more.

Reed was examining the camera and its microphone on a hunch. Victor had been awfully agitated about the idea of Sue and Johnny wrecking his toys. Sue had poured over the box over and over, just for the lack of any other course of action at the moment, and found nothing resembling a lock, a trigger, or a receiver. That meant if Victor had a receiver somewhere in this room that would open the box on his signal, it was most likely embedded in one of the cameras or microphones. Reed was doing his best to test that theory. He'd managed to open the panel around the monitor and had started scanning its components for the missing receiver.

"Reed's working on it," Susan rephrased her previous words.

Johnny nodded, a hint of smile curling at the corner of his mouth. "…know he is. S'a good guy." His brow furrowed a bit before he added quietly: "Sorry 'bout the nose…"

"What?" She glanced quizzically at Reed. "Nose?"

Reed drew a blank for a moment and he had to wrack his brain before he recalled what Johnny was referring to. He shrugged nonchalantly. "It's nothing…it was a long time ago," he waved off Sue's question and turned his focus back to the wires he was examining.

Johnny supplied: "…broke his nose."

"It wasn't a big d---" Reed tried again to dismiss the subject.

Sue gaped at her brother. "You broke Reed's nose?" she scolded.

"Wish I'd been there to see it," Victor interjected from his end.

Johnny paid no attention to Doom. "…He broke your heart. Wasn't a fair trade, but it was the best I could do."

"You were just seventeen. I forgot about it," Reed made a third attempt to change the subject.

This was all news to Sue, however. She'd known her little brother was upset when she and Reed had ended their relationship, but the break-up had been Sue's idea. Why the hell would Johnny do that to Reed? "Why---I mean---I told you _I_ left Reed, Johnny, it wasn't his choice."

There was genuine guilt in her brother's unfocused eyes. "Thought it was my fault," he said with complete honesty.

Johnny and Reed had gotten off to a bad start from the first day Sue had introduced Reed to her little brother. Part of the problem had been a complete lack of common ground between the man and the teenager. Reed was, as Johnny referred to him, an 'egg-head'. He'd been as introverted as a child as Johnny had been out-going. He tripped over his tongue when things got too serious. His interests were intellectual pursuits---every kind of science, computers, and technology. His keen mind had made for a short childhood, as he'd advanced through the grades rapidly and spent most of his time in academic pursuits. He wasn't very good with children back then, particularly not with teenagers. Johnny was a perpetually hyper child who had turned into a perpetually hyper teenager. He was into every sport, video game, car, motorcycle, and airplane under the sun and lacked interest in anything to do with books and science unless it related to one of the aforementioned hobbies. He was on the honor roll only because Sue and Johnny had social workers breathing down their necks from the day his sister became his guardian when they lost their parents, and they had to be careful about things like keeping up good grades and a clean apartment and staying out of serious trouble. As a result of having to depend almost completely on themselves, Sue and Johnny were fiercely protective of each other.

Reed's absent-mindedness had compounded the problem, for he did (more times than he cared to admit) disappoint Susan in some way---most commonly by getting wrapped up in a project at M.I.T. and forgetting they had a date planned. He was two hours late the first time Susan had invited him to her apartment just so Reed could meet her younger brother. Johnny hadn't liked anyone disappointing Sue. Not that her brother had gone out of his way to make friends with the man. When Reed had invited both of them to a yacht party thrown by one of his friends at the university, Johnny had grown so bored with the proceedings that he'd jumped off the boat and swam to the shore (where he'd at least found some pretty girls sunbathing). For damn sure, being unreliable as he seemed to be, Johnny didn't figure Reed for the kind of guy you could trust, the kind of guy you'd go to when you were in trouble.

The second hurdle to the lack of common ground was the fact that Reed had become involved with Susan on the heels of a series of bad boyfriends---all of whom had humored Susan by being nice to her brother, but had no use for the kid and no interest in sharing responsibilities for one. When Johnny met Reed, he'd immediately pegged the man for another one of the jokers who was only out to have fun with Susan and then leave tire tracks in the driveway. Johnny had tried to play nice---in his fashion---but he had made Reed nervous with his suspiciousness towards the older man and his protectiveness of Susan. When Reed broke Sue's heart by turning her down when she wanted to move in with him, the teenager assumed that he was one of the 'variables' Reed mentioned…he'd been one of the 'variables' that helped screw up his sister's relationships in the past. Decking the egg-head for breaking Sue's heart had been a natural sibling impulse.

Sue understood now. "Why didn't you say something---Johnny, I told you back then, you had nothing to do with Reed and I breaking up..."

"…'Know what you gave up takin' care of me when Dad…when, you know…I know it was hard raising me and going to school and working." Johnny blinked away a moment of dizziness. "I know how many jokers ditched you cause of me….wanted the pretty girl…didn't want to play dad. Sorry 'bout that, too…"

Sue didn't have it in her to be mad at him right now. "I'm not. You're my brother. None of those creeps mattered more than you."

He managed a smile at that. "Love you, too, Susie."

Victor must have been writhing in his seat from the disdain in his tone. "Like I said, Johnny, always picking the wrong father figures, the wrong mentors…always disappointed. I hope these walks down memory lane today have helped you understand what I said about impurities…need, love, want, pride…" Again came the tapping of fingers drumming a table over the crummy earpiece. The tapping was loud as thunder with Johnny's splitting headache and grogginess. "We're running low on time, Johnny…well, I should say _you're_ almost out of time. I still need you to understand why I went to all this effort to help you…why I picked you for this. Do you remember what I said to you the first time you walked into my office?" Doom asked.

"'Who are you and how'd you get past security?'"

Victor rephrased the question: "After that."

Johnny had to concentrate hard to remember. "…'said I was a cocky punk…and would I start at eighty thousand plus dental." _Keep him talking. Reed said to keep him talking…_

Susan heard the words—almost inaudible from Johnny's fatigue---and knew what was happening inside the cell. "Johnny? Is it Victor again?"

"Did you ever wonder why I did that? Did you ever ask yourself why I went to so much trouble and so much expense hiring and training you after Ben Grimm and his short-sighted co-workers washed you out of NASA? Why I trusted a man NASA threw out with billion-dollar spacecrafts? Why I wagered on the dark horse, gambled on the long-shot everyone else said could never win the Preakness?"

No, now that Victor mentioned it, Johnny had never wondered about that. "No one…said you were a fool, Vic."

Susan's strong voice cut in: "What's Victor saying?"

Johnny laughed, but it came out as an exhale. "Think he's saying…I'm Seabiscuit." He closed his eyes again and wished Victor would either shut the hell up or fall down a very deep hole somewhere.

"Did you think I did it because I was feeling charitable? That I did it because I was trying to impress your lovely sister? I've told you all along that I never let emotions get in the way of business decisions." Victor continued. "I certainly didn't need NASA's rejects for my ventures. I hand picked the best of the best men and women from around the world…or those I knew would become the best. I hired you, Johnny, because I saw the possibilities of all that you could be. I did it because I saw myself in that brash, arrogant man who knocked on my door that afternoon."

_Oh, wasn't that just peachy. _Johnny's eyes blinked open, an he gave the camera a look both horrified and revolted. "….Think we have…something in common…s'kinda makin' me ill, Vic."

"And everything you've done since that afternoon has proven me right. When fate gifted us with these powers, you and I seized the opportunity while---_others--_" The comment was obviously aimed at the trio outside the cell. "---others faltered and hesitated. You and I had the wisdom to see the potential of what we might become and…to take what we wanted. When I say that I see myself in you, Johnny, it's because you---like me---are a man who embraces his destiny. I knew it the day I hired you, and I know it still. That's why I picked you for this, Johnny."

Johnny summoned the energy to give the camera a dirty look. "Picked me…for what? Suffocating my…whatever it was?"

"Johnny, pardon the expression, but think outside the box. I had my choice among the four of you for this. I chose you because I still believe in your potential. Reed might be the smartest, Susan might be prettiest, Ben might be the strongest but you…to paraphrase the good book, you are a boy after my own heart. I want you to know why I've gone to all this effort to show you your weaknesses. You'll never be all that you were destined to be until, like me, you let go of the past and the emotional frailties it crippled you with and re-forge yourself. I told you back then that, if you stuck with me, I'd help you fulfill that potential. The offer still stands. I want you to believe my sincerity when I say this, Johnny---I was the one who was prepared to be that mentor, that father figure. I still am. After all, who's better for me to bestow the benefit of my considerable wisdom than someone just like me? I just need to know that you're still a quick study…no pride, no anger, just say the word. Two words."

_Say two words and impress Doom? _Johnny would rather sit there until every last molecule of oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Not that he had a long time to wait before that happened. There was not a whit of humor in Johnny's eyes or tone. "…would say, go to hell…Vic…but think it's too late…"

Victor tsked. "I never said you had a choice in the matter, Johnny."

Doom's words were cut off by a blast of static so deafening that Johnny cried out in spite of himself and reflexively grabbed at his ear. The static didn't die down this time---it was worse. Mercifully, between the dizziness and the too thin air, the audio assault was simply too much and Johnny blacked out.

Ben and Sue saw this on the monitor with a surge of terror. "No you don't, junior! Don't do that!" the Thing ordered. He wasn't going to last much longer, Ben could see that much. "Cripes! Fine, Vic, if it gets ya off the kid's back, you win!"

Outside the prison, Reed had found what he was searching for: Victor had indeed placed a small transmitter/receiver among the components of the microphone. He wanted to shout for relief, but dared not, so he said under his breath, "Yes! Thank you!" Fast as he could, he began patching his communicator into the transmitter.

Victor's voice crackled over the speaker. "Two down, two to go. Thank you, Ben. What about you, Reed? A few more minutes and the lack of oxygen is going to start causing brain damage. You're well aware of that…and even your intellect won't be able to help him if that happens."

Sue tried, "Johnny! Don't sleep, wake up!"

Blearily, Johnny opened his eyes. He couldn't summon the strength to lift himself off the floor of his cell. "Wha--?"

Sue commanded. "Look at me, Johnny. Stay awake!"

"I've got it!" Reed was no longer worried about hiding his actions from Victor. "Hang on, Johnny, we're going to get you out, I promise." Sue and Ben flanked their leader, watching as the re-programmed communicator in his hand locked onto the frequency of Victor's transmission and began modulating frequencies, searching for the one that would trigger the lock on Johnny's cell.

The communicator beep and its display flashed: _Signal lock. Transmitting._

Reed waited for any sign of reaction from the steel prison cell. Time they could not spare dragged by, agonizingly slow. _C'mon, c'mon…work, damn it._

The cell reacted. There was a _pop_, and the grinding of metal, and for one instant Reed thought it had worked and the box was opening. That hope didn't quite last long enough for him to draw a sigh of relief before the sound revealed itself to be the cover of a grate, camouflaged every bit as well as the door was, sliding open. With a _whoosh_, gas began to pour out of the cell…

No, not gas,_ Reed knew, _the last of the oxygen.Another one of Victor's booby traps.

"No!" Sue yelled. She projected her shield around the gap, plugging the leak, trying to preserve what air remained in the cell. The metal groaned, drawing on her energy, and began to collapse again. She extended the shield around her semi-conscious brother in the prison, just in case the walls came down on him. She felt blood drip onto her lip but didn't care. She'd stand there until hell froze over and she'd bled herself dry before she'd give up.

"That won't help for long, Susan. I'm disappointed. Did the esteemed Mr. Fantastic really think I wouldn't anticipate something that simple?" Doom couldn't resist goading. "Tick-tock, Reed."

Reed had no time to try anything else. Even if he squeezed through the grate, what could he do? The grating wouldn't let him take anything useful---like a tank of oxygen or an oxygen mask, into the cage. He could try, if he only knew that there was time. Unfortunately, he didn't know that there was. Frustrated, worried for Johnny, he snapped back, "Fine! Victor, you win! Open the damned box."

There was a pause. "Do you see what I mean about emotions, Johnny?" He asked his prisoner. To the trio, Doom replied, "I can't do that, Reed."

"You gave your word---!"

"I promised his freedom in exchange for four concessions. I only have three," Victor reminded them.

Angrily, Ben countered, "How's the kid s'pposed ta concede if he can't breathe?" He would have loved to try tearing open the walls now that he hand a handhold…but Sue couldn't risk lowering her shield long enough to let Ben try.

Victor acknowledged, "That is a dilemma. You'd best resolve it among yourselves…and I'd hurry if I were you."

Reed made his decision. He returned to the microphone. "Johnny---I need you awake. Now!"

Johnny's eyelids fluttered, but did not open.

"C'mon, kid," Ben urged.

"…Tired…" It was barely a whisper, but Johnny had answered.

"I know," Reed answered. "Johnny, I want you to do exactly as I say. Do you hear me?"

Johnny tried to nod, "…hear…"

"I want you to say 'you win'. That's an order, Johnny."

With great effort, the Human Torch opened one eye. This time, he managed to shake his head. "…no… picked me…not like him…"

"What's he talkin' about?" Ben asked.

Reed hadn't a clue what the younger man was talking about. "I don't understand, Johnny. Who picked you for what?"

"I don't care what Victor told you, Johnny," Sue's voice was strained, exertion from her efforts and fear taking their toll, but she pleaded anyway, "You don't believe a word that comes out of his mouth. Say it---please."

Johnny heard the fear in her tone. She was afraid. He couldn't stand for her to be afraid. But, his thoughts were murky and jumbled. Static and light tormented him, his body was heavy and uncooperative, and Victor's words echoed in his mind, confusing him:

…_need, love, want, pride…impurities…_

…_always picking the wrong father figures, the wrong mentors…always disappointed.._

_Need is an impurity, a vulnerability… _

_Love is a fine thing…but if you don't master it, love will get you killed…_

…_Approval. That's the sort of emotional weakness I was talking about, the kind that makes you weak. The kind that holds you back…._

_Trust is a privilege. _

_I hope these walks down memory lane today have helped you understand what I said about impurities…need, love, want, pride…_

_Think of this room as your chrysalis, Johnny. It's here that your transformation will truly begin._

_I could have picked any of them…I picked you._

_I never said you had a choice in the matter._

Was Johnny supposed to concede because he was like Victor or because he wasn't like Victor? He couldn't keep it straight in his fuzzy thoughts. Was that the practical decision like Victor wanted or was that the emotional decision like Sue and Reed and Ben wanted? Which was it?

"…Can't be like him…" he answered Sue.

Reed asked simply, directly, "Johnny, do you trust me, son?"

At the question---that word---the younger man's eyes finally opened, something like surprise—no shock---in their blue depths. "…Trust you, Reed…" he said.

"Then say it."

Johnny stared at the monitor, still confused, still wanting nothing but to sleep, for all this to end. Too much, there was too much in his mind, he was too confused. But, bottom line, he trusted Reed. He didn't believe anything Doom said. But, if Reed said it was the right thing, Johnny believed him.

"…Win, Doom…"

Victor sounded pleased this time. "Practical decision. There's hope yet. They can have you back---for now. Just don't forget to say good-bye to them, Johnny, you'll be leaving soon," he warned.

"…G-bye…?"

The lights ceased their repetitious blinking and their three beams coalesced into one powerful flash that nearly burned out Johnny's retinas. The earpiece seemed to have a meltdown, a cacophony of crackles and pops poured over the device. He was unconscious before he had time to react to the assault on his senses.

Outside, the trio saw the box give a tremendous shudder. Sue braced herself in case it caved in on Johnny. There was a hiss of air, and a small outward explosion and the welded seams blew themselves apart, releasing the door. Finally having a handhold, leverage, to work with, Ben tore effortlessly tore the box open like a tin can.

Ben was moving to go in and get Johnny, but Reed stopped him. "No, let me." He didn't want to chance any of them going into that cell and becoming trapped if this was another of Doom's tricks. Reed stretched his arms into the cells and very gently lifted the unconscious figure out of the room. Sue retrieved the small oxygen tank they had brought with them. While Reed carefully set Johnny on the carpet, she was already pulling the mask over her brother's face.

"Johnny, this is oxygen, whatever you do, don't flame on right now." She didn't know if he were lucid, or even conscious. She kneeled beside her brother, easing his head onto her lap, waiting and praying silently. His eyes were closed, but when Sue put her hand on his forehead and with the help of the oxygen, his eyelids fluttered a bit and a soft moan escaped his lips. Reed put his fingers to Johnny's neck, feeling for the pulse, and found it. It was faster than he would have liked, but it was stable and strong (all things considered).

Meanwhile, Ben crossed the room in two long strides and ripped the camera and microphone from the wall. With immense satisfaction, he took the demolished camera and pitched it into camera hanging inside the box…smashing both cameras, both microphones, and the lights in the box before Reed could say a word to stop him. "Show's over," he grunted. "Is he all right, Reed?"

"I'm not sure…I think we got him out in time. What the hell was the point of this?" It was a rhetorical question. He stared at the box and its demolished equipment, and then carefully turned Johnny's head so that he could see the small headphone surgically implanted into his ear. That was another peculiarity---why was Victor so worried about Johnny keeping that earpiece right where it was? Reed didn't understand it at all. A doctor would have to remove it. If Johnny's communicator had recorded Victor's transmission, Reed might be able to use the translator chip inside the earpiece to find out exactly what that psychopath had been saying to the Human Torch for the last…had it really been less than a half-hour since this began? When the danger was over, Reed also intended to have a very long look at that box.

"Don't know, don't care," Ben said. "All I know is, I can't wait to track down Vic and pay him back."

Johnny groaned and all eyes returned to him. Sue spoke in her best Big Sister's comforting tone. "Johnny, it's all right, we've got you. You're out of that cage. Relax and breathe." Sue put her free on his shoulder, holding him down in case he tried to make any sudden moves.

She needn't have worried. As the blackness faded and consciousness slowly returned, the first thing Johnny became aware of was that his head was killing him and his body felt achy and heavy, like he'd just gone ten rounds against the Hulk. He opened his eyes and found himself flat on his back in what looked like Victor Von Doom's old conference room, staring up at the concerned faces of the rest of the Fantastic Four. _How had this happened? _The last thing he remembered was flirting with a pretty dental hygienist. _If this was the hangover, it had to have been a helluva party._

"---Happened?" he mumbled.

"Doom's on my appointment calendar for an ass-kicking, junior. You can count on it," Ben promised.

"Doom---?" Johnny wracked his brain. Had they been in a fight? That would explain why he felt like death warmed over.

Reed couldn't help asking, "What was Victor saying to you in there? His transmissions to your earpiece were scrambled?"

There was not one thing in that question that Johnny understood. Victor? Transmissions? Earpiece? In where? "What…don't understand. Don't remember Victor."

His teammates exchanged uneasy looks. "Johnny, try to remember. The cell? It just happened. You have to re---"

"What do you remember, Johnny?" Reed asked.

Johnny frowned, trying his best to figure out what it was they thought he should remember. "Dentist…" Wait, there was something else. "Bright light." He remembered a painful bright light, like high beams from an SUV shining right in his eyes. He just couldn't recall where he'd seen it.

Reed made a mental note to check on that dental office. That was most likely the place where Doom had abducted Johnny. "Anything else?"

Johnny shook his head, and winced when the movement made his headache worse. The room lurched so suddenly that the dizziness nearly made him ill. Not a good move, Storm, don't do that again. "No. Head hurts…"

That was all Ben had to hear. "Kid needs a doc. Let me get in there, Susie."

Without hesitation, Sue moved out of the way to allow Ben to lift Johnny and the small oxygen tank. There were one or two doctors that the team trusted. Still, Sue knew there was going to be a media circus waiting outside this building and at the hospitals in the immediate area, given that this whole horrible series of events had been televised by Doom. She planned to keep her invisibility shields around all of them until they were safely in the E.R. Her family had been gawked at for entertainment enough for one day.

Ben, carrying Johnny, hurried for the elevator, with Sue on his heels. Reed lingered there just a minute longer.

_What are you up to, Victor?_ He wondered again before he finally followed the rest of his team out of the building.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: _I don't own the characters. 20th Century Fox, Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, and probably some other people do. Wish I did. Especially the guys. Typos as always are my fault._

_Rating:  T to be safe. This one doesn't have my usual amount of action, only some adult themes and mild language. See part one for author's notes._

**4**

It was a secluded castle, deep in the mountains of the country of Latveria.

For seven months each year, the countryside around the castle was surrounded with snow, which covered the few dirt mountain roads leading to the hideaway, giving it a further sense of isolation. This, of course, suited the castle's current master just fine. If there were too many prying eyes around, too many visitors, they might have discovered that there was much more to the place than just the ghosts of its past. The oil lamps and torches that lined its hallways, the rustic antiques that adorned its chambers, it was all a shell hiding what lay beneath the palace. Beneath its façade, there was an elaborate network of corridors and hidden chambers that housed the finest, most advanced technology from around the world---and quite a few inventions created by the master of the house.

From the exterior, it might have been a charming monument to days past, the sort of place for which rich Western tourists paid a month's salary to spend a weekend. It might have seemed less charming if they had known its history. The most corrupt officials and provincial governors---thieves, dictators, and murderers---had inhabited this castle in days gone by. The expensive furnishings had been paid for in suffering, the stones had been erected on the graves of the oppressed. This was the precise reason Victor Von Doom---now simply 'Dr. Doom'---had purchased it long ago, following the mysterious and unsolved murder of its owner, General Kubeka. He wanted a hideaway that projected the image of power and inspired fear and awe among the farmers and laborers of the Third World country…and he wanted his privacy.

His private study lay deep in the heart of the castle. It was his sanctuary, the place to which he retreated for meditation, reflection, and planning. Rarely did the staff of the castle dare disturb him when he was in this room. Today was an exception. Today had been a particularly good day and Victor was in the mood to share his triumph with at least one or two visitors. His ever-present assistant Leonard stood nearby, keeping himself handy if Dr. Doom should need him. Doom's other guest sat in the plush, leather wing chair directly across from him. The doctor and his other guest divided their attention between the chess board between them, decked out in pieces made of pure silver and pure gold, and images being fed to the room's large television by Doom's satellite.

A reporter stood in front of the building that had been Victor's corporate offices, tipped by an anonymous call that the images of the Fantastic Four that had held the world riveted that afternoon originated from that location. "…amazing, extraordinary events of the day, but it looks like the Fantastic Four did succeed in that respect. As we saw before the transmission was cut off, it appears that the Human Torch did survive the incident although we don't have any further word about his condition…" The female reporter, the shining example of overdressed, overly made-up Western style, was absorbed in her broadcast that she failed completely to notice the subtle, telltale shimmer and distortion that Victor knew was the only indication of the Invisible Woman and her shields as it passed the mob of t.v. journalists and cameras.

Doom turned away from these images to the woman in the chair opposite him. "How many cycles were completed before the box shut down, Doctor?"

Dr. Nora Sater, a Latverian native educated in the United States, fresh from her trip to New York that morning where she had played the roll of a substitute dentist, consulted her notebook computer. "Thirty complete cycles." She was satisfied with that, but hers was not the opinion that mattered. "Twenty was the minimum required. Forty would have been preferable," she admitted.

Mercifully, Doom only inclined his head graciously. "Thirty is more than enough." He moved the gold Bishop on the chessboard. "That is, if the machine worked as you said it would."

Dr. Sater swallowed nervously, well aware of what would happen if the device hadn't worked as she'd promised.

Beneath his mask, Victor would have smiled if he'd still had a mouth made of flesh. The steel alloy that was his skin prevented such emotional expressions. He liked to keep his employees off balance, on edge---fear was a good motivator. However, even if the box should fail, he planned on keeping Dr. Sater around for the time being. Her research, her education, and her inventiveness were too valuable to be discarded lightly. She was the best in her field, and, as Doom had reminded one of his enemies that afternoon, he only picked the best to serve him. "We'll know soon enough. Nice work, Doctor," he added.

"And you as well, Doctor," Nora returned the compliment nervously.

Leonard was out of the loop. He'd learned never to pry into the plans of his employer unless it was absolutely necessary. Doom would tell him what he thought his assistant needed to know, would give him orders suited to Leonard's abilities. The 'whys' of what Doom did was not need-to-know information. But, that evening, curiosity was getting the better of Doom's long-time aide. "I still don't understand, Sir. Why all this trouble just for a mere concession?"

Why all this trouble just for a concession?

Reed Richards was tired, but he could not sleep. It was the middle of the night and he should be in bed, but he simply found it very difficult—if not impossible—to rest his body when his mind would not quiet itself. And, when presented with a mystery, his mind seldom rested until he solved it. He'd retreated to the sanctuary of his lab to work so that he wouldn't disturb the other occupants in the Baxter Building. After the trying events of the day, they needed their rest.

The doctors had released Johnny a couple hours earlier, against their wishes. Besides his memory loss, which they attributed to post-traumatic stress, they simply could find nothing physically wrong with him as a consequence of his time in that cell. They had wanted to keep the Human Torch overnight for observation, but Johnny flatly refused to stay at the hospital. No amount of threats or pleas from the rest of the team would change his mind, he was adamant about wanting to return to the Baxter Building. It owed, Reed supposed, the need to return to the safety of home after the torture of that box. The doctors couldn't very well keep Johnny against his will (how could they force a man who could burn off restraints and fly out the window to stay if he didn't want to?), so they'd released him to the care of his team with orders for bed rest. Sue and Ben had made it their mission to enforce those orders.

So, while they took turns camping on the couch Ben had dragged into the Torch's room, Reed was alone with his mystery. The doctors had removed Johnny's earpiece without any real difficulty. Reed had taken the translator chip from the unit and patched it into one of his computers. Johnny's communicator had been demolished---anyone who wasn't fireproof would have been seriously injured when the device self-destructed---but, before that, it had managed to record some of Doom's transmissions to his prisoner. Reed downloaded the recorded signal into the computer and ran the broadcast through the translator circuits.

The translation had left him only more confused.

Victor's messages sounded like incoherent rants. He'd dredged up some of Johnny's most painful memories---Reed had already guessed that from Johnny's words and reactions while he was still trapped in that prison---and rambled about 'emotional impurities', but what was the purpose of it? If Victor had made a point, it had to have happened after Johnny's communicator was destroyed. Johnny had said several things that bothered Mr. Fantastic while he was imprisoned. He'd said that Doom had 'picked him'. He'd said 'can't be like him'. Like who? Doom? Who picked him? Doom? Since Johnny had no memory of the box and couldn't very well elaborate on his words, Reed had reviewed---very unhappily---the digital recordings of Victor's broadcast, paying careful attention to hints Johnny had provided.

Some words stood out. Foremost among them: "Picked me". Assuming Johnny was trying to say Doom had picked him, what did that mean? Picked Johnny for what?

"Not a 'mere concession', Leonard," Doom corrected sternly but patiently. "The Fantastic Four are no longer undefeatable in the eyes of the world. The 'gods' have shown their mortal shortcomings, their human frailties. Never underestimate the value of that." Doom ordinarily wouldn't have indulged his right hand man with a full explanation of the reasons for his actions, but he was feeling especially pleased with himself that evening. "But, you're right, I was after more than a simple concession from them. I'd never go to such efforts for something that insubstantial."

Doom interrupted his match with Dr. Sater by gathering up four of her silver chess pieces and placing them side-by-side on the board: King, queen, bishop, and pawn. He covered the silver pawn with an up-ended square pencil box. "Dr. Sater constructed a brilliant, elegant, simple machine for my game. The box is a weapon in my arsenal, just like these pieces on this chessboard. A good weapon, Leonard, has more than one purpose. But, victory on the chessboard depends on more than the weapons at your disposal. It depends on subterfuge and misdirection---those are the keys to keeping your true intentions hidden from your opponents. Misdirection---focus their attention on the larger problem, like their comrade being trapped in an airtight box, and they'll ignore the little things like blinking lights and static on an earphone. Focus them on getting the pawn out of the box in less than thirty minutes as the key to their victory, and it doesn't occur to them until too late than keeping the pawn inside the box for twenty minutes was the key to your victory."

The recordings of the broadcast weren't providing much more information. Reed had hoped he'd just missed something Johnny had said, since he'd been preoccupied with finding the receiver and trying to trigger the lock at the time, but the Torch hadn't made any comments on the tape that shed any more light on what Victor had told him.

Then Reed had accidentally keyed the images into high-speed rewind and a peculiarity struck him like a physical blow between the eyes.

The lights.

He'd wondered why they were blinking all along. There was no apparent reason for it. If it was meant to confuse, distract, or further torment Johnny, a strobe light would have been more effective than the slower flashes from those three lamps. It wasn't until the images were played back at rapid speed that Reed began to see that the blinks and flashes were not random…they blinked in a repetitive pattern of long and short flashes not unlike when submarines used lamps to flash coded messages to each other at periscope depth (Ben made them watch Hunt For Red October at least once a month). The pattern was like Morris Code.

Morris Code.

There had been a researcher who studied using patterns of light to communicate hidden messages, Reed recalled. What was that doctor's name?

"Subterfuge---focus your enemy's attention on the discomfort of flashing lights and background noise, and they fail to discern patterns to the lights and the static. As you already knew, Leonard, Dr. Nora Sater is the foremost authority on the effectiveness of using messages embedded in light and sound on…suggestibility," Doom added. "So, put them together, Leonard. If I trap the pawn in a box so he can't escape, if I bombard the pawn with messages buried within innocuous blinking lights and irritating static and background noise from which he cannot escape, then the box isn't truly a prison, is it? Its purpose is no longer to contain, its purpose is to…transform."

Doom lifted the square cup to reveal not Sater's silver pawn, but his own gold knight.

"A chrysalis," Leonard repeated Doom's description.

"Precisely."

Dr. Nora Sater, that was the researcher's name, Reed finally remembered. When he Googled her name, it took only a minute to find her numerous articles, and the subject matter was the same in each one: Her work centered on the use of light and sound to convey subliminal messages to test subjects to render them extremely suggestible without their being aware that they were in a suggestible state. It was an advanced form of involuntary hypnosis. Brainwashing. Reed found the notion disgusting at best. The side effect, as with hypnosis, was memory loss. The preferred methodology was---

---blinking lights and background static!

"Oh my God."

Reed was on his feet and running for the bedrooms, finally understanding. Victor hadn't been trying to kill Johnny at all or keep the rest of the team out of the box. He'd been trying to keep Johnny inside the box so that he'd be repeatedly bombarded with flashing lights that were hypnotizing him without his knowing it. He'd known, with the loss of air endanger Johnny, the rest of the team would concentrate on freeing him from the box---and they'd do everything in their power to keep him awake, to keep his eyes open so that he'd keep seeing that light. Doom had meant to keep that earpiece in place so that Johnny would hear the subliminal messages encoded into the static while Victor distracted him with ranting and rambling. He'd known Reed would want to trace the signal Victor was sending to that earphone to Doom's hideaway, that Reed would ask Johnny to keep Victor talking even if it meant keeping that wretched earpiece in place.

Doom had 'picked Johnny' to use as a weapon against the rest of the team…

…or worse, against the rest of the world.

"I understand all that, Sir," Leonard said, picking up the gold knight and studying it for a moment. "What I don't understand is, why Johnny Storm?"

Doom chuckled at that. "I'm no liar, Leonard. I meant what I said before---he really is a boy after my own heart. The son I always wanted and never had. When I see potential, I'm not one to let it go unfulfilled." Victor mulled this for a minute. "Reed can create great machines. Sue could possibly shield an entire city if she put her mind to it. Ben…well, there's something to be said for physical strength. But Johnny? I don't think even Johnny Storm knows the full implications of his abilities…how truly powerful he is. How many superheroes have the power to annihilate an entire planet with a wave of their hand? What he needs is a mentor to show him the way."

Leonard pursed his lips, skeptical but unwilling to question his master. "And you believe this chrysalis of yours will work?"

"We'll find out soon enough." Doom reached for a remote control and the mewings of the mass of reporters on the television was replaced by images of the exterior of the Baxter Building, provided by security cameras from neighboring skyscrapers, cameras easy enough to patch into when you had the technology at Doom's disposal.

Johnny Storm opened his eyes.

Only lightly dozing on the couch Ben had moved into the Torch's room, Susan Storm heard the rustle of the fireproof blankets and came fully awake at once. She'd been staying close by, partially because he'd raised quite a stink about being stuck in bed when they'd brought him home from the hospital, partially because she was still badly shaken. She knew Victor had brought up bad memories, and if her brother should remember any of it---well, she wanted to be close by if his sleep was disturbed by nightmares. When he was a child, he'd had horrible nightmares after their mother's death and their father's arrest. She hated Victor more, if possible, for dredging that up.

She saw her brother sitting on the side of the bed, staring at her with a rather blank expression. For a minute, she wondered if, indeed, a nightmare had awakened him. "Johnny? Are you all right?"

He smiled…but it was a rather strange smile. Johnny rose from the bed and crossed the room. He certainly looked better than the agitated state he'd been in when he'd left the hospital, she thought. She met him halfway across the room and wrapped her arms around his neck in a fierce, relieved embrace.

Seconds passed before it dawned on her that her brother was not returning the embrace…not only that, but his body was heating up as if he were about to flame on.

She pulled back in confusion. "Johnny?"

Her only warning was the sudden glow of fire behind his blue eyes. Sue barely raised her shields in time to save herself when Johnny's body erupted into flames. Fire poured off the Human Torch, and streams of flames formed a barrier between him and the Invisible Woman. Johnny left her standing in the bedroom, fighting the wall of flames he'd created. He paused only to extinguish his right hand so he could pick up the tank of oxygen that had been left beside his bed.

Reed rounded a corner and discovered at once that he was too late. He was face-to-face with the Torch in full flame. Johnny advanced on him with a smile that was pure malice. Reed knew it was futile, but he tried anyway: "Johnny, I know what Doom did. This isn't you, it's hyp----"

Johnny had shut off the flame in his right hand, Reed saw almost too late. In that hand was a small oxygen tank. In a swift motion, the Torch pitched the tank in Mr. Fantastic's direction.

Susan, her shield at full strength, appeared in the hallway behind her brother. "Johnny don't!" She extended her shield around Reed even as Johnny shot a ball of fire at the oxygen tank. The resulting explosion shook the upper floors of the building, splintering and incinerating furniture and shattering windows.

Johnny didn't so much as slacken his pace. He heard for the laboratory, sending streams of fire in all directions as he went. Having a human fireball as an occupant, the building had been updated with the best sprinkler and fire suppression equipment there was…but it couldn't keep up with the onslaught from the Torch.

The explosion, the clatter of fire alarms, the shouts of Susan and Reed, brought Ben running. He entered the laboratory in time to see Johnny incinerating computers and Reed's inventions one-by-one. Ben didn't need to be told that this strange turn of events had to do with what happened that afternoon. "What the hell are you doing, Matchstick?"

Johnny smiled a grin that chilled even a man made of stone and advanced on the Thing.

Ben didn't want to hurt the kid, but he had to stop him. "C'mon, junior, knock it off! You're gonna hate yourself in the morning."

He, in turn, advanced on Johnny---the flames couldn't hurt Ben's rocky hide. Johnny raised his arm and sent a stream of fire in the Thing's direction. He hadn't, however, been aiming at Ben. Johnny's flames vaporized the flooring beneath the Thing's feet, and before Ben knew what had happened, the ground beneath him gave way and sent him into an uncontrolled fall. As he crashed through the stories below those occupied by the quartet, Ben caught a glimpse of the Human Torch as Johnny ran for the balcony and flew away into the night. The fact that he was falling away from their floor saved him when Johnny, as a parting shot, launched one more massive fireball into the Baxter Building.

On the television screen, the cameras Victor controlled captured the image of the upper levels of the Baxter Building engulfed in flames and the small streak of fire that was the Human Torch sailing away into the night.

Victor nodded. "I'd call that a successful test, wouldn't you, Dr. Sater?" Doom rose from his chair and patted Leonard's shoulder. "Don't just stand there, Leonard. Get a suite ready---my prodigal son is on his way home."

FIN

Author's note: Okay, show of hands, anyone out there think I need to do a sequel?


End file.
